Said the Time Traveler
by IlluminationImpact
Summary: A journal found in present day holds resemblance to a letter from twelve years in the past. A pair of siblings move in to Far Coast, a wintry lakeside town, and they uncover mysterious messages that point to a greater meaning, a story written for them by fate.


_Said the Time Traveler_

_By Illumination_

** WOWEE, AN ANIMAL CROSSING FANFIC. SO NEW, SO ORIGINAL, I CAN'T BELIEVE IT. I'm sorry, I know this prolly sucks but I had it lying around and I felt like posting it so DEAL. I can barely even remember, but something, something, something about the clock aspect in the game? I dunno. Read it, find out.**

January 1 2014  
Mom sent me a letter today. I already knew she would. Someone was walking by my house and I think her name was Alice, however no one can ever be sure. I received letters from my three friends, and Punchy was the only one who started to express his concern. He thinks I'm sick.

March 23 2099  
Nan moved away. I don't know when, because I just now found her letter. I guess I wasn't a good enough friend. I want to talk to Gladys so bad, but I'm not allowed to until my trip is done. I hope this is worth it.

March 24 2000  
I messed up by a day. I keep seeing minutes slipping out of place on the phone. I hope I can fix it when I go back. I just have to do something in this year before I go ninety-nine years forth. I saw Punchy in a dream before I went to the phone back in 2099. I really want to talk to him.

March 24 2001  
I stopped here to for something important. It rained and I just wanted to go forward twelve years and stop this, but I can't until I finish. I know Nan is gone, but someone keeps writing her articles on the bulletin board. They're not the same.

March 24 2052  
There was fog today. I'm feeling better. The years are reeling now at intervals of just 3-10 years, and I think things will go back to normal soon. I'm almost done with this, and I almost can't believe it.

March 24 2058  
I messed up really bad. I forgot something, and after the jumps became shorter, the risk of losing my friends became higher. Now they're gone. They're really gone and there's nothing I can do now. I don't know if I ever want to wake up now.

March 24 2013  
March 23rd of this year was the day I left. I can't believe I made it back, but I can't say I'm happy for it. It doesn't feel like home because Punchy and Gladys aren't here. I don't know where they've gone, and I have no way of finding them. There are people left, and I don't know them. They're trying to talk to me, but all I hear is the thin voice asking me. What time is it? What time is it? God, I wish I never knew.

Chief stopped reading, and Whitney guessed that was the final entry. They were both silent for a long time.  
"Whitney?" He finally spoke up.  
"Yeah?" Whitney answered.  
"You noticed the dates, right?"  
She nodded. "Mm-hm."  
"They're all messed up..."  
"I know."  
There was another pause.  
"The last one is today's date." Chief pointed out.  
"Yes..." Whitney murmured.  
"That means whoever wrote this might still be here."  
"Yeah."  
"So they'll come back for it."  
She looked at him. "Put it back."  
Chief set the journal atop the rock where they had found it and stood up.  
"Let's go." He said  
Whitney tilted her head up at him. "Wait, shouldn't we stay?"  
"Why?"  
"I...I'd like to see who wrote it." She shrugged.  
"Oh please." Chief scoffed, and Whitney could hear his common irritation stalking his voice. "It's just some crazy person. I'd rather not have to talk to them. Now hurry up, I want to get out of here."  
Whitney sighed, and, with one last resentful glance at the tattered journal with the four-leaf-clover marking the page, she got up and followed her brother.

March 24 2013

Something very important happened just now. It is now five thirty a.m., five hours after my last entry, and I almost can't believe it. I think this is really really important, and it's a good thing. I was walking along the edge of town when I passed a house by the river. I was almost past the house when suddenly the door opened, and someone stepped out. I knew her, somehow. Her name is Maple.  
I ran to Maple and hugged her immediately. She just gasped and stood there wordlessly as I continued to hug her.  
"Maple!" I cried. "Maple, I know you!"  
I feel kind of bad now, because she must have been terribly confused. She said, "Who are you?"  
I stopped hugging her then and stepped back and smiled at her.  
"You...You don't know me, but I know you. You were my sister's best friend! I remember you! I KNOW you!"  
Maple had to calm me down then because I was jumping up and down and shouting and none of the other neighbors were awake that early. She was nice about it though, and she was gentle and she smiled as she asked me what my sister's name was. I stopped jumping and stopped smiling for a second, before I sighed and smiled again. Not an excited kind of smile though. It was the pleasant kind of smile you have when you remember something nice.  
"Amber." I said. "My sister's name was Amber."  
"Ah," Maple sighed. "Amber...I remember her..." She smiled a smile that matched mine, and together I thought we looked like a mirror until Maple tilted her head, her smile fading a bit.  
"What is your name?"  
I told her.  
"Okay." Maple nodded. "Thank you. I...I'll see you around, alright?"

I nodded too, and I said goodbye to her, and I kept walking. And I kept smiling.

The reverberation of the nonsense pounding on hard white wood is what woke her. She growled, but not directly at the obnoxious visitor, just to herself. Part of her hoped they hadn't heard her, and the other part did; she didn't want to be mean...She just wanted to _sleep_.  
But God did these neighbors wake early. And that would be fine if they didn't assume _she_ woke just as early as them and come breaking down her door like a bunch of ballistic woodpeckers.  
Finally Whitney heard the noise cease, and her ears relaxed as she started to drift back to sleep, that is, until her phone buzzed.  
GOD DAMMIT.  
Whitney slept with her smart phone, always going to bed with it snuggled close like a stuffed toy, so it was impossible to miss a text. However, when she heard it buzz that morning she was beyond ready to pelt it at the dry wall, but somehow she resisted her urge and blinked at the glaring screen.

From Chief.

She honestly almost threw it. She had her arm raised up over her head. She almost did it. But of course, Whitney's better judgment and the fact that these things were damn expensive made her stop, take a breath, and lower her arm. She read Chief's message:

'I no who rote the jornal.'

Any other time Whitney would have called her brother and gave him a three hour lecture on his dumbass text spelling and grammar. But this time was one of the exceptions where she could afford to chip away at her soul and ignore it because this was important.

'Really? Who?'

Whitney wasted no time replying, however she still punctuated and capitalized her words. She just didn't understand how FRIGGIN hard it was to actually give a shit about what you're writing, and show that you have at least SOME intellectual integrity in your lazy ass.

'Get ovr here & i will tell u.'

Whitney groaned, slid her feet over the edge of the bed and pressed her paws lightly to the hardwood floor. She stood up, then stopped, casting a hesitant look back to the phone that still lay nestled among her bed sheets. She plopped back down and snatched it up, furiously clicking away at the key board.

'You know, Chief, you should really-'

She didn't even get to finish typing before the phone buzzed again, and she just stared stupidly at the screen displaying her brother's text.

'stfu whit i dont fuckin care bout gramer.'

Whitney sighed in exasperation. The bastard was already anticipating her lecture.

She climbed out of bed for a second time, simultaneously pulling on pants and tugging away her night gown while clicking out one final text:

'Fine. I'm on my way.'

The weather was nice that day, fucking finally. And "nice" by the terms of Whitney feeling good in an open jacket and jeans. She was almost positive she didn't even own a pair of jeans, but she wasn't to be caught dead in one of her dresses or skirts in this weather. So she managed to pull an old pair of jeans out of buttfuck nowhere, and she had the jacket that she sometimes wore over a dress in her old town, but after she moved to Far Coast, she abandoned that kind of attire on account of the weather. And it was March already. What the fuck, it felt like October.

Whitney rapped her knuckles against Chief's splintering wood door, sighing and pulling her jacket around her as the wind picked up.  
"Hurry up, you ass." Whitney barked to him. She heard clumsy paw steps growing louder to the point of the door opening. Chief stood in the doorway with one arm lazily propped against the frame and the other limp at one side. His fur was bedraggled, his tee shirt clinging to his body unevenly, and he wasn't wearing any pants, just boxers. One ear was hilariously flipped inside out.

"Get in here." Chief mumbled. Everything about him, including his voice, suggested that he had just woken up. Everything, that is, except for his eyes. Chief's eyes were clear and sharp, narrowed down into a shining cold focus. He stepped backwards into his house, and Whitney followed.

Whitney knew Chief was always sort of a messy person, and she wasn't exactly sure what she was expecting, but she knew she wasn't expecting it to be _that_ messy.  
Papers, trash and laundry were strewn across the floor in places where they weren't stacked up in haphazard piles. The blinds were shut, and the room was dim with a stale sort of musk odor to it. Cabinets were left ajar, and the TV was left on the blue VCR screen, covering one side of the room in an eerie sort of glow.  
"Holy shit, Chief. When was the last time you cleaned this place?" Whitney said in disgust, kicking a discarded pair of jeans to the wall.  
"Shh." He growled flatly as he felt his way through the wreckage, stepping carefully and leaning forward as he searched.  
"No, honestly, this isn't fucking healthy. I feel like I should call Hoarders down here to document this."  
"I said shut up, Whit." Chief straightened suddenly, then dashed forward and grabbed a piece of paper, fumbling with it momentarily before tugging Whitney to his side. "No, here it is! Look!"  
Whitney peered at the paper:

Chief,

I'm very excited that you've come! You have no idea how important  
you are. Don't worry for me. I'll be there soon.

I think I'm okay. ~ F.W.

Whitney remembered that letter. She had received one much similar to it on the same day, about twelve years ago. She was five years old. Chief was four. They had no idea who had sent the letters, and it scared them, although they never showed their parents. They thought someone was stalking them for a while until Whitney's older sister instinct kicked in and she told her brother it was all just a big prank someone was trying to pull. Chief's four-year-old fears were relieved a little by then, lessening just enough to let him grow out of it. They never found out who sent the letters, but they never let it bother them. Until now.

"Chief..." Whitney said quietly. "P-put that away..." She reached over his arm, trying to grab the paper, but he jerked it away from her reach.  
"Whitney, listen. It has to be the same person. It HAS to."  
"You told me you didn't care about the journal!"  
"And _you_ told me that you _did_. I care about the letter."  
They were fighting for the paper like two immature Breath players fighting for the Ring of Life until Whitney stopped and just gave Chief a long, silent stare. She sighed.  
"Chief..." She said, "If they are the same person...Then it proves..."  
Chief finished for her. "It proves that they were time-traveling."  
Whitney pushed one paw to her forehead. "But...That's not possible!"  
Chief stepped to her, pointing to the letter in his paw and speaking urgently. "But this might prove that it is."  
Yet another moment of silence followed.  
"Those initials..." Whitney murmured.  
"F.W." Chief confirmed.  
"And the final entree of that journal..."  
"It was yesterday's date."  
"Chief...they might still be here..."  
"Exactly." Chief grinned with all of his teeth. "And we just have to find out who they are."


End file.
